The Repetition
by Icescale
Summary: History is destined to repeat itself in the form of the massacre of the Hyuga clan. Just as before, the heir is responsible, leaving the sibling behind.


This is a one-shot that I have been wanting to do for a long time. I found the urge to write something that would go with the saying that 'history repeats itself'. I might continue the story if there is enough support, but if not, it will stay as a one-shot.

Reviews are very much appreciated!

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto.

-x-

Long lashes felt heavy as the heavy drops splattered onto her ivory face, permanently red, but not from blushing. Her lidded eyes were darkened, icy but glinting with an eruption of madness, had anybody been able to keep sane enough to look directly into them.

Her rose lips were parted, a small pink tongue darting out to taste the thick liquid on her upper jaw. Her normally pearly teeth were smeared and her small nose had its nostrils flaring as it took in the ambrosial blood of her _kin_.

Dressed in tight black clothing, her bare hands shook in excitement, clutching a small jagged dagger composed of dark, rusted metal. The tip was blunt, but the edges were sharpened enough to hold the dripping globules. Her breath was slow but her heart was swift, pounding in joy as she lazily gazed around at the victims.

Hyuga corpses littered the room, overturned in pathetic positions for their noble status. Kimonos were torn, yukatas in shreds. Pieces of flesh were flung sloppily onto the walls and their blood dried to crisp autumn brown. She glided through the main hallway, not caring as she crushed bony limbs under her ninja sandals.

So swift was she, that the blood from her dagger flung towards the beige walls, shadowed in the darkness of the compound. Splashing through pools of blood, destination clear in her mind. It was time to visit the last of her family.

Metal double doors, greased hinges hidden. Brass knob was ignored as she spent a spinning kick towards it, the door grunting slowly open.

The young woman was clouded in darkness, embracing the black gratefully. Her mind had departed its sanity to the literal hands of her body. The glint in her eyes, the eyes that would turn wide and blank every time she brought the weapon down, grew wilder.

Her insides squirmed, a sneer appearing over her once so innocent face. Smeared in blood and clad in evil, she no longer carried that façade. Her whole life was in the hands of these _people_, now these rotten corpses. Corpses that would be buried, eaten away by maggots, consumed by nature, eventually forgotten by the living.

It was irony that the ones who controlled her life were ripped away from their own by _her_ hands.

Hands that gripped the handle harder, knuckles paling. Her hair fell stiffly to the small of her back, wavy in the coat of crimson. The edges splitting as they stuck together with the beautiful liquid.

Yes, it was beautiful. The bloody rivers that poured from each and every body. Her own blood she saw. Was it possible for it to be so pretty? So red, so bright, so evil?

The fact that she took her own blood from her family members was suicidal. It was as if she was ending her life, over and over again. And the end was so wonderful. The rush, the adrenaline, it felt so _good_.

She had always been the weak heiress, the failure, the wallflower. It brought flurries to her stomach, delightful twittering to her lips when she saw the surprise mask through pale faces like her own. Her jaws widening in surprise. Who would have expected it from her?

The little Hyuga-hime, tender, shy, stuttering, blushing. Blushing shades of red. Red… like blood.

She felt the hunger for more claw in her stomach, more. She needed to see more. She needed to feel the rush again and again. Drunk from the lust of murder, she stumbled wildly, her eyelashes fluttering.

Faster, faster. She flew through the walls she grew up in, killing all those who stood in her way as well as those who tried to escape. Bodies fell around her, a blur of the Hyuga flames.

Finally, she reached the huddle of a man and daughter. The little girl trembled in his arms, whimpering reverberating off the as of yet, untainted walls. She slowed down, resting the blade in her opposite palm, smearing the blood over her pale wrist.

The man shoved the girl behind him, said daughter yelping as she was crushed protectively against the wall. Foolish father spread his legs apart, dropping in Jyuken stance.

The woman threw her head back and laughed. She was his eldest daughter. How lovely it was to see her reflection in his scared eyes, the eyes of the stoic man who had called her weak over and over again. In training, in the house, in embarrassment, in her worst nightmares.

Her toothy grin widened, tasting fresh blood on her lips. Was she weak now? The prey had turned predator.

She drew closer and the man's tan fingertips glowed with chakra. Rolling her eyes, she simply grabbed his wrists with her free hand and flung him to the bookcase in abnormal strength.

She had passed over the line of normal the moment she took the life of her cousin, her very first victim. Her best friend. She had killed him to test her bonds, to see if power was possible. And she _loved_ it.

The man screamed in his oh so familiar gruff tone as the glass of the shelf shuddered and broke, raining down millions of pieces. His hands covered his face, trying to protect himself by pulling himself on the floor in a crouch.

She wasted no time, grabbing him by the neck of his kimono and pulling him up on his knees, kneeling before her. She looked down coldly at him, gazing deep at the fleeting emotions in his Hyuga eyes.

Slowly, she grazed his long neck with her dagger, watching with interest as the skin immediately cut through, blood dribbling down. She raised the blade higher, cutting his long hair messily and finally resting on his forehead.

Her other hand gripped firmly on his neck, pressing lightly on the pressure point, bring a satisfying gasp of pain. Then she trailed her kunai across, making a line on the right.

Pausing for a moment to observe it, she moved it to the left, all the while the man closing his eyes as the blood increased over his face. Finally she landed in the space in the middle, running it deep and hard on his skin, digging in as she carefully carved.

The Main Branch, the leader, had the curse seal carved into him forcefully by his very own heiress.

As soon as the blood covered the majority of his face, leaving only the bare spots that outlined her artwork, she flung him down and dug her shoe into his chest.

He screamed and twitched in pain, not resisting it anymore. She dug inward, bruising the spot above his heart mercilessly. She glared down at him, frown gracing her features. Lavender eyes darkened to gray.

The man's eyes shot open in defeat, watching his eldest daughter as she killed him. No remorse appeared on her face, the face that reminded him of her mother.

He let out one last sob, before his face paled and his bloodshot eyes lidded. Smirking at the moment his breath ceased, she turned towards the little girl, who was pressed up against a wall, eyes wide and shoulders shaking.

She walked over to her, grasping her thin neck and lifting her to eye level. The child was paralyzed, all she could do was meet her wild gaze in horror with wide, mirroring eyes. The murderer brushed aside the thin pieces of hair, sticking to the child's face in cold sweat.

Moving closer, the young woman hovered near the ear of the girl, and whispered darkly, "Hate me, little sister. Learn to hate me and then one day, come and kill me."

Hanabi cried out loudly, her shrill echoing through the thick veil of death that covered her home as she watched her nee-chan disappear into the shadows, completely absorbed into darkness.

-x-

Sasuke lifted his mask up, watching the little sister-in-law walk through the rain, effulged with grief in confusion. Once again, it had rained. Thick drops of toxic gray, showing no merciful sun through the hazy clouds.

He looked at the Hyuga compound, deserted and deadly silent. His ANBU team had already run ahead, in hopes of at least one other Byukugan holder left.

As the water pelted down on his face, he covered his moment of expression with the porcelain mask, shoulders tense under his uniform. They say that a man marries his mother, but in this case, he married one who was a mimic of his brother.

-x-

AN: If you havn't figured it out, the woman was Hinata. Basically, Hinata, who is married to Sasuke, takes the place of Itachi and Hanabi is left as Sasuke to be avenger. I could make a plotline out of this, so if anybody is interested to see this as a future story, say so in a review! )

Thanks for reading.

-Zai


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